


Stats

by Siaht



Category: Sports RPF, Tennis RPF
Genre: M/M, Romantic Fluff, Short & Sweet, post-sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 21:12:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11814273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siaht/pseuds/Siaht
Summary: Roger is inspired to make a list of their achievements. There's only one Rafa really cares about.





	Stats

**Author's Note:**

> I guess Roger being "by himself" in Montreal gave me ideas.
> 
> I'm not proud of that ending. But it was that or no ending at all.
> 
> Enjoy :)

"Look at us."

It's something that Rafa has done before, but the act doesn't fail to spread a faint crimson color across his cheeks. As he stares at the mirrored ceiling, his eyes find Roger's first thing and, abashed, he tries not to let their naked bodies take his focus, but it's tough. Lying side by side with Roger like this is his only goal in life these days, since he's got everything else.

The next thing Roger says tells him he's not the only one thinking along those lines.

"Me, 36. You, 31." Roger begins, and Rafa can't tell exactly where his gaze is but doesn't dare trying to pin it, instead continuing to stare right at his face.

"Me, 19 Grand Slams. You, 15. Me, 8 Wimbledon. You, 10 French Opens." Roger pauses, as if raking his mind for other facts to add to this impromptu list. "Me, a doubles gold medal. You, a doubles and a singles gold medal."

Hearing that gives Rafa such weird nostalgia, like Roger's voice is one of those songs that send you on a trip down memory lane. He keeps listening intently wondering where Roger is going with that.

"Me number 2 and you number 1," Roger says and immediately turns his head at him, grinning and with his eyes gleaming playfully. Rafa looks at him too and counters the beam with one of his own.

"Not true," he laughs through his nose, swinging an arm across his own chest to smack Roger on the shoulder, the other trapped between their very warm, very slick bodies.

"Will be," Roger replies without hesitation, eyes almost disappearing with his face-splitting smile. He looks up again and Rafa follows.

"Me... losing my hair and you growing yours back," he continues and Rafa bursts into a cackle, curling up and rolling away from Roger for a moment while Roger breaks into his signature giggle-snorts.

"Tonto," Rafa moves to swat at him again, but Roger catches his hand in his and entwines their fingers instead, while still squirming with residual laughter. He is vaguely aware of what that word means.

"Don't insult me, I'm already losing my hair!"

"Make a hair transplant too, you have money!"

"I don't have time for that. And you'll love me even if I'm bald, won't you?"

It's not Roger's intention but all signs of mirth die off, and suddenly Rafa is hyper-aware of every part of their bodies touching, especially their hands which feel clammy in each other's grasp. It hurts every time he thinks of how much he loves Roger, and how unconditional his feelings are. He knows Roger can see it in his eyes, too. Still, he feels comfortable enough letting it show, if only because he's never tried to hide it in the first place.

Rafa breaks the eye contact to look at the mirrored ceiling again, lips stretching into a smirk.

"Me, I love you when you're old, bald and fat. You?" He finds Roger's stare, raising his left brow impossibly high on his forehead in an inquisitive fashion, managing to lift the mood right back up.

"I don't know... fat? Are you telling me you're not gonna have that six-pack when you're 80?"

"I not gonna have it when I'm 80." Rafa answers solemnly.

"Then I think I can't do it," Roger jokes, barely managing to finish the sentence with a straight face.

"I leave you right now," Rafa motions to roll out of bed but Roger catches and secures him in place, laughing and pleading for him not to go. Every moment spent by Roger's side is bittersweet, but Rafa can't say he doesn't live for them; always has and always will. He lets Roger hold him tight and revels on it; his body, loyal as ever, responding to the touch with goosebumps and a light, pleasant tremble.

"I love you even when you don't want me to anymore," Roger finally says into his ear, nuzzling the skin right behind it, Rafa's pulse quickening.

"There's a word for it," Rafa says and draws in a deep breath that he lets out along with a low moan.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, is forever."

Roger hums, either thinking about it or pretending to do so.

"Sounds good."

"Say it," Rafa demands, eyes already closed and a pleasured smile on his lips. 

"Me, I love you forever, Rafa."

Needless to say, in his list of life achievements that's the one Rafa is the most proud of.


End file.
